Dave’s Ramblings – Atalanta – Diary 1

And what about snails? If a snail loses its shell, is it technically naked, or has it simply become the world’s slowest and gloomiest homeless person? These are the questions that keep me up at night, right after I’ve eaten cheese too late.

 

But here’s something equally baffling: why do the champions of the entire planet, and the moon too, have to qualify for the Champions League knockouts? If you’ve beaten the whole world already, (it’s soooo easy), shouldn’t you at least get a laminated pass and a reserved parking space?

 

With these mysteries in mind and with my bloodstream now consisting of roughly 70% real ale and 30% regret, we boarded a flight to Bergamo. The mission? To discover whether Chelsea could possibly play worse than we did away at dirty Leeds and Bournemouth. Hope was low. Beer was high.

 

The first lesson of the trip arrived quickly: Communication matters. You’d think grown adults would know this. But no. Both the Lord Rue and I decided to order a full round of drinks each. At the same time. With only twenty minutes before boarding. Nothing says wise, responsible traveller like double-fisting pints at 9am.

 

Now, you may be wondering why I refer to him as the Lord Rue. Well, it’s because the man has a system for everything, including airport security. On his last holiday (number 27 out of his 43-holiday annual quota), he was viciously attacked by a bat. Not the flappy Dracula kind. But a cricket bat. As one frequently is, on holiday.

 

This incident left him with a limp dramatic enough to impress even the most hardened West End choreographer. And so, armed with a walking stick and a sense of entitlement normally reserved for minor royals, Lord Rue led us through security at a speed I can only describe as faster than a slippery ferret in a bucket of WD-40.

 

This afternoon was basically a professional level marathon of sampling random beers, catching up with old friends, and trying to decide where tomorrow’s feast will happen. All of that, of course, after we pick up our tickets and head to a game against a team I had literally never heard of until about three weeks ago. Honestly, I’m still not convinced they’re real.

 

Of course it’s impossible to pretend we don’t know what’s in store. As if we’re wandering in clueless bliss. As if we have no idea what this team, a team we had literally never heard of until someone mentioned them in passing like they were a new brand of toothpaste is about to do to the two-time champions of the world. Let’s be real: they’re probably going to walk in, stretch, sneeze, and accidentally dismantle us before the national anthem even finishes.

 

Look, here’s the truth: today was glorious. Blue skies, incredible sights, and of course, the champions of the entire world… and the moon. Honestly, at this point, the only way things could improve is if someone handed us free snacks and a small parade in our honour.

 

But alas… it is now bedtime for Dave, the official lightweight of the group. May his dreams be sweet, peaceful, and completely hangover-free.

 

Goodnight everyone! See you in the morning, after coffee obviously, croissants, and whatever other sugary nonsense we can get our hands on. 🍩☕🥐

 

Dave M

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